


Acquired Taste

by Spoon888



Series: Twitter Warm Up Prompt Fills [8]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Body Modification, Crack, Gen, M/M, Megatron Has Excellent Taste In Bodywork, himbofication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: "Explain-" Soundwave began in a low, dangerous drone, "-why Lord Megatron has reformatted himself into a frag-bot."
Relationships: Megatron (Transformers)/Everyone, implied Megatron/Starscream
Series: Twitter Warm Up Prompt Fills [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719604
Comments: 46
Kudos: 184





	Acquired Taste

**Author's Note:**

> For @Dark0Larry on Twitter

The reformat was born out of necessity, not vanity as Starscream had teased him. If he was to best Prime in battle he would require every advantage he could get his hands on, and that went beyond advanced tact-nets and powerful weaponry. And there was nothing he would not sacrifice for victory, even his own reflection. 

He consulted with designers, the best Starscream could recommend, and cut back on as much unnecessary weight and cumbersome kibble as he could manage. His strength was already matchless and what he required was speed most of all. That meant forgoing his thick sheet plating for streamlined armour, for curved edges, for tight armour seams, and culets. 

When he was onlined again afterwards, he found himself staring at what at first looked to him like a mockery of a seeker - their elegant hourglass shape, but without the wings. He half turned, inspecting his profile, a hand falling to the smooth dip of his waistline. 

The designer of his new frame was waiting on the edge of his vision, hands wrung together nervously. 

"Does it satisfy, my lord?" He stuttered nervously. 

Megatron didn't care much for appearances, but he did rather like the streamlined look. He turned to face forward again, appreciating the new lightness of his frame. He could already sense how much quicker he would be. Yes. This could work. 

He gave the designer a short nod of approval, and supposed he would have to _thank_ Starscream for the recommendation - that is, assuming the praise wouldn't inflate Starscream's ego a step too far and cause the seeker's already inflated head to swell to the size of a small moon...

* * *

  
Unlike _certain_ members of his command staff he could mention, Megatron didn't expect the masses to gush over every minuet change he made to his appearance.

They may not even notice the reformat. How much time did the average underling spend staring at their leader anyway? What with so many seekers prancing about to ogle over instead. 

His fusion cannon looked comedically large on his now trimmed down frame, but he left it on his arm as it was anyway. After all, when it came to guns, the bigger the better. He wore it proudly when he strode into his Command Centre. 

Without the additional weight, his steps weren't so loud and clanging, and few realised the pedefalls they were hearing belonged to their leader until Megatron was already halfway across the room. 

Shoulders straightened and helms snapped to attention when after they caught a glimpse of his grey armour they recognised _who_ had strode into their presence. But it wasn't until Megatron had taken a seat at the main console to brood over the latest intel that he noticed the sudden hush that had fallen over the room. 

He swivelled his chair around the face them. 

Twenty blank faces were staring at him, mouths hanging open on their hinges. Several had stood out of their seats to stare at him over their monitors. 

In a show of shocking disrespect and complete lack of self-preservation, even as he stared back at their slack-jawed expressions, they didn't have the sense to avert their gazes. 

Megatron glared, "What are you gawking at?!" 

There was a sudden clatter of activity as mechs whipped around to stare at blank walls and fingers worked frantically over keys. Megatron surveyed a crew now doing everything In their power _not_ to look at him. He remained glaring as a few brave sparks popped their helms back up for a second peak, ducking down again with a squeak of panic when they realised they'd been caught. 

"By the _Skylord_ , Megatron..." a disbelieving voice murmured. 

Megatron tore his gaze away from the gawkers and found his Second in Command at his side, staring at him with disk-wide optics and thinly veiled horror. Megatron watched his usually overactive mouth open and close uselessly for a moment. 

"I see you picked my ... _suggestion_ ," Starscream finally choked out. "For your ... _designer_?" 

He must have been here for his praise. Typical. Megatron cleared his vocaliser and leaned back in his seat so Starscream had a better view of the good work. "He did an excellent job."

He crossed his long smooth legs at the knee and tapped his fingers against the armrests of his seat. Starscream's optics darted to his thighs and back up again. 

The seeker swallowed audibly, "I thought it would be obvious, my lord-" he began carefully, his optics unable to focus on Megatron's face for longer than five seconds. "-that he doesn't usually design reformats of a ...of a _combat_ nature." 

"I realised that," Megatron huffed impatiently, "It took him some time but he managed to adjust an existing design to my specifications." 

Starscream's optics, impossibly, grew wider. "You picked this one out _yourself_?" 

"Yes," Megatron's brow creased, "why?" 

"No reason," Starscream's lips trembled a little. He took a careful step back, giving him a once over again. "...It suits you." 

Megatron nodded in thanks. "It will serve me well in battle." 

"Yes, I think It'll serve us _all_ well," Starscream murmured, retreating from him backwards like he couldn't bring himself to look away. 

_Seekers_ , Megatron thought to himself, brushing a speck of dust away from his forearm before turning his chair back towards the main monitor. 

Out of the edge of his vision he could see Soundwave lurking in the darkest corner of the Command Centre, standing uncomfortably stiff, his dimmed visor fixed in Megatron's direction with eery focus. 

Megatron rolled his optics. Yes, the reformat was drastic, but did they _really_ have to make such a fuss over it? 

* * *

  
Starscream estimated that he had around twelve hours before Megatron either worked out what had happened or someone finally mustered the courage to tell him -so he planned on using the first ten of those hours to revel in the hilarity of Megatron's situation, and the remaining two on getting as far from his leader and that fusion cannon of his as he possibly could. 

Unfortunately he had not made similar calculations on how long it would take _Soundwave_ to learn what had happened and the part he had planned in it, so he was caught unaware when he rounded the corner for the mess and was caught around the throat by a large blue hand and slammed against the bulkhead. 

Soundwave's fingers tightened threateningly, his visor pulsing with rising charge. Starscream could see his own surprised face staring back at him in it's reflection. 

"Explain-" Soundwave began in a low, dangerous drone, "-why Lord Megatron has reformatted himself into a frag-bot." 

Starscream smiled, wincing at the hand squeezing around his vocaliser. "Didn't you hear?" He huffed a laugh, "He picked it out himself!" 


End file.
